Grandfatherly Deceptions
by 9aranoia
Summary: The knowledge of the Prophecy and the mourning of Sirius’ death inadvertently causes Harry to review his years at Hogwarts resulting in some chilling revelations about Dumbledore and Harry making another, splitsecond decision. ONE-SHOT.


Summary: The knowledge of the Prophecy and the mourning of Sirius' death inadvertently causes Harry to review his years at Hog

Wizarding Revelations and Grandfatherly Deceptions

Summary: The knowledge of the Prophecy and the mourning of Sirius' death inadvertently causes Harry to review his years at Hogwarts and discovers some chilling revelations about Dumbledore and decide to take matters into his own hands. One-shot.

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.

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As Harry's cold lifeless green eyes stared out of his window from Number 4 Privet Drive, he couldn't help but mourn the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black, a man he had known only briefly. It was for this reason that he felt an immense hatred, not only for himself, but for Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape and Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore..." Harry murmured staring into his reflection, rather than the damp, wet and cold scene that was Privet Drive. His eyes trailing up to his forehead, where his lightning bolt scar stood out clearly, inflamed, against his pale skin, even in his transparent reflection; a blemish on his soul.

Harry's eyes narrowed and shone slightly with anger as he recalled his conversation with Dumbledore after the Depart of Mysteries incident. A prophecy, that's what it had all been about; a prophecy. _That_ was Dumbledore's reason – his _excuse_ for his actions this past school year, and he made it all sound _so_ genuine, but Harry had his doubts. Dumbledore's motives were questionable and his actions, now that Harry reviewed them, even more so.

Since entered the Wizarding World; since attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, Harry Potter had yet to have a normal year; a year where he could worry about his education; a year without his life being endangered; a year where Hogwarts could live up to its reputation as one of the finest schools and safest places in the world, save Gringotts.

Yet, from Harry's point of view, it was all lies created from the truths of Hogwarts' grandeur centuries ago.

Hogwarts' education didn't seem to be all that great, sure there was Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Vector, Sinistra, Burbage (though he couldn't comment on the last three) and maybe even Snape, when he wasn't being a bitter teenager trapped in the body of a adult with an eternal hatred against a man who's been dead for 15 years and now, has the _maturity_ to take it out on his teenage son.

'_Makes you wonder, doesn't it?'_ Harry though bitterly _'what would Professor McGonagall say about that?'_ But, quite frankly, in Harry's opinion, the _esteemed Professor _Severus Snape wasn't fit to teach in a muggle school or to be a part of any occupation, which required interaction with other human beings.

But then Dumbledore allowed people such as: Professor Binns, Trelawney, as well as a few disappointing Defence Against the Dark Art's teachers and, though he hated to admit it, Hagrid. Binns was incapable of lecturing on anything that didn't involve Goblin Rebellions; Trelawney couldn't seem to shake the habit of foreseeing death and mortal peril in her students, Harry in particular, though it would seem that her creativity was failing her as her latest predictions consisted of Harry choking on a faeces flavoured Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean and Hagrid, well, Hagrid had a different view of 'cute and cuddly' Harry winced as memories of Norbert surfaced.

Recalling his other thought about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry couldn't help but remember Hagrid's words from that day in Diagon Alley before his first year.

"_There's no safer place in the world than Gringotts, well, save maybe Hogwarts, o' course". _

'_Hogwarts - Safe? That's a laugh'_ Harry thought to himself as he tore his gaze away from his reflection with a snort and moved to sit on his lumpy bed, now staring at the plain white walls that encompassed him. When had Hogwarts _ever _been safe?

Never, '_It'd be safer trying to cross the road of a formula one racetrack, during a race. At least then I'd know what was coming... and when'_ Harry thought to himself. It just didn't seem possible; it couldn't be possible, could it? For it to happen year after year, sure he admitted he was at fault for some of the 'adventures' that Hogwarts had been subject to, but there had to be more to it than that. How could Dumbledore not have noticed, he must have - he was the Headmaster, surely all those portraits and ghosts weren't just for show?

Yet he allowed it to happen, for things to escalate as they did. It was disconcerting to say the least that such an important figure of the Wizarding World was so…careless and dare he say it, incompetent…or was he? Harry sighed a he swung himself onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, it was all very confusing; he wasn't sure how to feel anymore. It frustrated him, not knowing.

When Harry had entered the Wizarding World he had taken everything at face value and it seemed that that had been a mistake; he wasn't sure who to trust anymore. He didn't think he could trust anyone anymore, he'd hoped that the Wizarding World would be the opposite to his life with the Dursley's, whom he'd never been able to trust, but they were turning out to be more alike than he would've liked. He turned his mind back to the subject at hand to avoid the despairing implications the thought had.

How could _Albus Dumbledore_, quite possible the most renowned wizard in the world allow 3 _first _year Hogwarts students to serve a _detention _in the _Forbidden Forest_ with a wandless wizard, armed with a crossbow, and a cowardly boar hound? Especially, when it was acknowledged that their purpose was to find a dead or wounded unicorn; one of the most powerful light creatures in the world.

Yet, it had happened; how could it escape his notice or indeed that of his Deputy Headmistress, that the creature responsible would, itself, have to be a very powerful dark creature to be able to achieve such a feat and that they could very well encounter it during their search. Not only that but he was able to keep it out of the Daily Prophet, a surprising and impressive achievement considering Draco Malfoy had been one of the 3 students and Lucius Malfoy would have used any opportunity to discredit Dumbledore with his influential political power.

As if this wasn't enough, Harry's own first year Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Quirrel, had Voldemort's spirit residing in the back of his head under a turban and Dumbledore, _Albus Dumbledore_, failed to notice this; he failed to notice the presence of, what many would consider to be, the greatest dark wizard of all time only a stone's throw away, if that. Not only that but the 'protections' guarding Voldemort's target, the Philosopher's Stone, were so simple; ridiculously so, that 3 first year students were able to pass them.

Harry frowned as he contemplated his last train of thought as he continued to lie down onto his bed with his hands behind his head and soon found his heart beat double as his thoughts came to a chilling conclusion.

'_It was almost as if they weren't intended for Voldemort as if they had been designed specifically for some-'_ Harry's train of thought trailed off as he shot up off the bed, bright green eyes wide with realisation. _'That's because they weren't meant to stop Voldemort, they were intended for-'_

"-me" Harry whispered the last part aloud as he paced the confines of his small bedroom. "But why"? Harry murmured as he ceased his pacing and looked up; glancing around the room, thinking it would have the answer, which surprisingly it did.

His wandering eyes finally lay to rest on his half finished Potions essay "A test...it was all a test" Harry said in a near-silent whisper as he recalled the most significant revelation of his meeting with the Headmaster.

'_The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the dark lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...'_

"It was all a test" Harry repeated, this time louder as the prophecy echoed inside his head; it was all a test: The Philosopher's Stone, The Chamber of Secrets and his meeting with Tom Riddle, The Triwizard Tournament and now the Department of Mysteries. This was why, but what was Dumbledore trying to achieve? Was he looking for proof that he was 'Voldemort's equal'?

And what had Dumbledore planned when he left Harry on the Dursley's doorstep all those years ago? Had it all been a part of Dumbledore's game? Had it all been a setup? At this thought Harry's mind rushed to his meeting with Draco Malfoy in Madame Malkin's, the Weasley's at Platform nine and three-quarters, Hagrid's biased view of Slytherin's and the words of the sorting hat whirled around his head.

"_Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure..." _

Had the sorting hat been trying to tell him something? Was it aware of Dumbledore's subtle mechanisations? Had the hat been forced to make a choice? A choice between Harry's happiness and where it felt he would develop best? Had Dumbledore been trying to mould him into what he wanted, someone without any knowledge of the Wizarding World, someone...someone he could control? A pawn; totally reliant upon him.

At this thought Harry's jam clenched and a steely hard glint had appeared in Harry's eye as these thoughts flew around his head. But at that moment, for Harry, it didn't matter why; reason had flown out the window and was now replaced with gut wrenching betrayal, which gave way to furious rage as the implications of it all hit him like a kick to the stomach.

"Is that what this is - a game – a chess piece a-a-a pawn?! Is my life – does my life mean so little? Am I only a-a-a tool – a weapon against Voldemort?!" Harry hissed angrily, conscious that his relatives were still inside the house.

His body shook as his anger threatened to overwhelm him; his knuckles had gone white, back and shoulder muscles had tensed and his nails dug into his hand, threatening to pierce the skin of his palm. A faint blue glow could also be seen that enveloped him and had he not been focused on his roaring anger he may have noticed the light bulb in his room flicker, on and off, as well as those of the rest of Number 4 Privet Drive and even the surrounding houses.

On top of this several objects including: books, quills and inkwells had begun to levitate around the room, but it was of little importance as his anger got the better of him and he lashed out with his leg, striking his chair, which was knocked across the room hitting the far wall.

"BOY! What the devil-?!" yelled Uncle Vernon from downstairs, snapping Harry out of his anger and allowing Harry to glimpse the floating objects in his room before they dropped to the floor, landing with thuds and a crack, as his inkwell hit the hard wood floor and began staining it an inky black. Moving quickly Harry used one of Dudley's old shirts that the Dursley's had given him to soak up the mess just in time to hear the end of Uncle Vernon's tirade about his freakishness "-have it! Not in my house!"

Binning the ink well and the soaked shirt Harry contemplated his current situation but with a calmer attitude hoping to distract himself from his previous thoughts, fully aware that his anger was brimming below the surface. Harry now knew full well that he couldn't allow his emotions to influence him as they had done, doing so would give anyone an insight into his head, even without Legilimency. He didn't want them to have the smug satisfaction they would get when they got under his skin.

He needed to rein them in somehow; Occulmency seemed to be the only solution, but hell itself would freeze over before he went back to Snape or worse, Dumbledore. Harry shook his head at that thought and rested his head in his hands as he sat back down on his bed.

"If you want something done; do it yourself" Harry said to himself as he looked up to stare at his reflection in the window and, adding as an afterthought, a sad look in his eyes, _'alone'_ he sighed before turning back to the matter at hand _'just like before'._

"It would appear, that I'll need to make a...trip down Knockturn Alley for a purchase...or two" Harry said to himself in a hushed whisper a small grin on his face matching the gleam in his eyes and as an afterthought added "disguised of course...but first..." Harry glanced at his wardrobe of Dudley's castoffs grimacing "I'm gonna need some new clothes".

'_Yes'_ Harry thought _'but before that, a visit to Gringotts is in order. Now...who's on guard duty? Mundungus Fletcher? Oh this is too easy' _Harry thought to himself as a very Slytherin-like grin crept onto his face as he grabbed his invisibility cloak and whatever money he had left over from previous years.

Dumbledore won't know what hit him.

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Please Review.

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Fireblade5


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